


hey kid, you've goat this

by Kamaete



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Found Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Slice of Life, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 15:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17025039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamaete/pseuds/Kamaete
Summary: sans hesitates after stepping in the building, glancing around haphazardly. there's a cashier to his left, and walls of clothing in every direction except for in front of him, which has uh, watches? he looks up but the signs aren't very informative. womens, mens, housewares. aren't all these clothes technically house-wears? heh.he knew it was going to happen at some point, but he didn't think it was going to be like this and he is wholly unprepared to deal with it. his brother reminds him that hecandeal with it, though.





	hey kid, you've goat this

**Author's Note:**

> this is uhhhhhh, raw and not edited bc i die, boy. super self-indulgent. no questions asked. where’s asriel?? chara?? no one knows don’t ask me!! for any glaring errors, feel free to drop a comment, and i'll edit it in. thank you for reading! 
> 
> for content warnings: the character death isn’t for any of the listed characters, and isn’t described, but the fallout is... basically the whole fic. for more detailed warnings please see the end notes.

sans hesitates after stepping in the building, glancing around haphazardly. there's a cashier to his left, and walls of clothing in every direction except for in front of him, which has uh, watches? he looks up but the signs aren't very informative. womens, mens, housewares. aren't all these clothes technically house-wears? heh. 

"Hello! Do you--uh, do you need help?" The cashier stutters when he turns to face them, but makes a remarkable effort at keeping the surprise off his face and smiling. 

"uh, looking for a suit, or something." he shrugs, pushing his hands into his pockets. 

"Let me get you some help!" The cashier speaks into a headset and then tells sans someone will be right there. he shrugs. that's fine. suppose it'd be easier to let someone who might know what they're doing take the reins. 

in a matter of moments, another employee comes racing down the aisle stuttering to a stop before him. it's not very busy in the store but they look stressed anyways. despite that, they're smiling. they introduce themselves. 

"How can I help you today?" 

"just looking for a suit jacket. black. uh cheap?" he says, tacking that last bit on as an afterthought. 

"Hmm. Well we aren't going to have a very big selection, but let's look in our clearance!" They lead the way and sans awkwardly follows, into the racks of clothes. They stop in front of a small selection and sans tilts his head looking at what's on offer. 

"Do you know your size?" 

"uh, round?" he says, looking down at himself then back up at them. 

"Try this one?" 

he does. the arms are long, but it hangs alright. 

"Hmm, that's a regular, so we're looking for a 40, 42 short." They mumble, picking another jacket. this one is grey. he shrugs into it easily enough. it's still a little long, but better. 

"heh, something wrong?" he asks and the associate winces. 

"You need black, you said?" 

"yeah, uh. special occasion." 

"We don't have much here, there's the grey. Darker grey. Blue. We have some sixty percent off stuff?" They nervously shuffle their feet. he takes a look at the tag. Forty five dollars and it's 90% off. 

"eh, sure." 

sans takes a look at the jackets, but they're all navys and tans. the associate looks mildly embarrassed, still clutching the slightly too long, dark grey jacket. 

"That's all we have, uh, in that price range… do-- when do you need the jacket?”

sans looks at his wrist. it’s bare. he shrugs. “sooner the better.”

“Yeah, the earliest we’re going to get some more markdowns is in a few days. Uhm, and all we have is this--the dark grey. And the black in a smaller size.” They awkwardly shuffle again, gripping the jacket. 

“yeah, see, it’s for a uh funeral. gotta be black.” he reaches out and tilts the sleeve so it catches the fluorescent lighting, “or white i guess.” 

They start shaking their head immediately, reluctantly informing him they don’t carry white outside of prom season.

“Uhm, I don’t know if this is the first store you tried. Uhm, but the only other place I can think to try is a thrift store--” 

“well,” sans shrugs, “i’m actually. late. already.” 

the human boggles. 

“Oh, I’m--” they frown, “We can-- gosh we don’t have any coupons or anything out. Uhm, you can always return it later? If you’re only going to use it once, I mean. We’ll take it back, no problem.” 

“sounds like work,” he breathes. and work? it’s just not like him. she’d understand. “she wouldn’t recognize me in a suit anyways.”

“Oh,” the human glances at him before looking away, “Uh. I--” 

“welp. i’ll get outta your hair then.” 

“Wait--” sans waits. “Uhm, I just. You look like you’re going through a rough time? Are you uhm, gonna be okay?”

in general, or right now? because, as long as he, you know, doesn’t think about it, he’s fine. he looks at their face. oh, they’re asking-- “it’s fine, i’ve got a shortcut. no breakdowns while driving for me, at least none of the emotional kind, heh.” he sees them whisper ‘breakdowns’. they look like they want to laugh but not offend him. they wrestle the urge down.

“Okay.” they look down at the coat again. “I think… I think whatever you show up in will be okay. She-- she’ll understand.” 

sans wishes they’d laughed instead. 

“you’re right, tori never let me get her goat anyways, knew i was always kidding around.” he waits just a second before he remembers this person won’t get the joke. he sighs.

“Well. I hope you uh…” they frown hard for a moment. he waits patiently. it’s what he does. “I hope you have... I hope your day is--” they look like they are about to quit. he smiles. well, he’s always smiling. “I hope your spirits lift soon! It’s a shame to see them so … depressed?” 

he gives the joke a second of breathing room. the human’s face slowly morphs into one of unrestrained horror. he starts chuckling, then laughing, his breath leaving him in a woosh of amusement. “heh, gotta say, kid, that was a real rib tickler.” they breath a sigh of relief. “you gotta future in amateur comedy, if this sales thing don’t work out. anyways, i’ll leave you to it, kid. thanks for giving me a chuckle, you really made someone’s day.” 

“Uh, bye, then!” they give a wave. he walks into the dressing room. he’s gone when they check in on him. 

 

monster funerals are pretty cool. monsters turn to dust when they die, so the most integral part of the ceremony is spreading dust on their most loved things. normally a monster will have a small ceremony, with their surviving family and their close friends spreading the dust on a favorite book, or instrument. maybe, the dust would get split between those who had been closest to the fallen. however, when someone who touched the souls of almost every monster living falls down, the arrangements are a bit different. 

Toriel hadn’t been a small monster. but still, her dust doesn’t amount to much. the urnful of ash doesn’t look like it should be all that’s left of the boss monster. it looks small, dainty almost, and though Toriel had never been ungainly, dainty wasn’t a word sans would use to describe her. regal maybe. 

there is a line, a procession before him, of monsters. some with various knicknacks gripped in their limbs, some with nothing. all of them there to honor Toriel. she had loved the people in her community and she had touched so many lives and all those souls want closure. some hold precious memories-- “Toriel gave me this recipe while planning for the PTA bake sale, she said it was for her favorite pie”--and they receive a sprinkle of dust, so toriel’s essence can live on in those happier times. some only have the memories in their head, but they still want to be there, to offer their sympathies. 

the urn grows deeper as it is emptied of toriel’s dust. if sans were prone to feeling bitter, if he could muster up the effort, he might be tempted to feel bitter about this. tori’s dust being spread so thin, across so many monsters. by rights, tori’s kid should be the one who gets to lay tori’s dust where they want. Tori’s kid, and maybe Asgore, her ex husband, depending on how she felt before she fell. but her dust was spread thin the way her love never was, and if he thinks about it, this is really what tori would have wanted. this ritual, spread across so many, is something to give the monsters in the community hope. to keep their will up even when a pillar has fallen.

besides, why should he get upset over this? it’s not like he wants any of her dust for himself. he has nothing to spread it over, no mementos or sentiments he can hold onto. just a door and some jokes they spent hours and hours on. the soft memory of her braying laughter, the noise of his bones knock knocking against wood. he hadn’t settled in her life, and he’d made sure she couldn’t settle in his. 

though, the way his soul feels, he was maybe not too successful at the latter. 

he stands at the edge of the gathering until everyone has filed away. he sees a couple monsters he knows-- the neighborhood watchdogs, the school’s coach and science teacher. he sees his brother as well. he sees them all come and go until only asgore remains. he stays until asgore leaves as well, returning to the quaint and tidy house toriel had lived in. he makes his way to the tree they’d stood under. the tree hadn’t meant anything special to toriel, but he isn’t going to interrupt what remains of her family with his tired jokes. 

he raps his knuckles against the tree. “knock knock.” 

nobody answers.

“hopper.”

“hopper happy on the other side.” 

he waits and knocks again. 

“knock knock…. baaa….. can’t you tell yourself? i’ve gotten your goat!” inspired, he follows that up quickly with another one. “knock knock… goat… what goat, can’t you see i’m kidding around?” he chuckles.

then he knocks again. 

“knock knock…. your leaf….. you’re leafing me bonely, pal.” 

and finally: “knock knock. i’ll fish…. i’ll fish you a lot.” 

he sighs and thunks his head against the tree trunk. well, that’s as much of a eulogy as he is going to make. kind of went off on a tangent there. welp.

there’s another knocking sound, but this one doesn’t come from him. 

“who’s there?” he answers the call obligingly. he’s informed that there’s an interrupting drop bear waiting at his door. “interrupting drop bear who--” a kid tumbles into his arms from the branches above. they’re lucky he’s magical. 

“oof, there you are, kiddo. was wondering where you were hiding. oh, you’re wondering why i was late? i had problems with a suitor.” they look at him questioningly. “couldn’t find a suitable jacket.” they look at his worn hoodie and nod their head in agreement. he chuckles and sets them on the ground. “‘sides, better later than never, am i right?” they only shrug. 

“well, come on, time to get you inside and fed. it’s getting late.” they take his hand, and he forces himself not to pull away. he walks them up to the door of toriel’s cottage home and knocks, two quick raps out of habit. 

“I’ll be just a minute, who’s there?” that’s asgore. 

“ _i’ll_ be just a minute.” 

“Oh, I’ll be just a minute who?” Asgore asks, opening the door, a tired smile on his face. he probably only answered that way because he recognizes sans voice. 

“i’ll be just a minute is you,remember? i’m sans. this is frisk.” he winks. “hey, ‘gorey. goat your kid.” 

Asgore blinks, smile trembling a moment before pulling himself back together. 

“Ahh, yes… my, hmm. Frisk, I had been wondering where you were at. Thank you, for bringing them home safely, Sans.” 

“no prob, i’ll just get outta your way now, then--”

“Nonsense, please, let me invite you in for a cup of tea. I’m sure Frisk would appreciate the company.” as would i, he doesn’t add, but sans can read it on his face well enough. of course asgore doesn’t want to be alone right now. well... sans isn’t very good company right now. 

“nah, it’ll just go straight through me, you know that.” he huffs a laugh. 

“If you are quite certain, there are some leftovers in the kitchen, still.” 

“well, if ya add food into the equation, guess i’m a variable after all.” asgore does not look like he gets the joke. sans won’t explain it. 

the dinner is an awkward affair. there’s the remains of a snail casserole, heated up by fire magic. Frisk is sitting next to him, asgore is seated at the head of the table, though not the side that toriel would’ve taken. asgore made tea for them all anyway, and sans drinks it. it’s floral, and it dissipates like all magic food. 

“She had a Last Will and Testament notarized,” asgore announces, not quite out of the blue. 

“that requires some, uh, foresight.” he comments. asgore glances at him and shuffles his cutlery around.

“We’re reading it tomorrow, in the morning at the courthouse.” 

“prompt, sounds good.” he doesn’t know why asgore would be telling him this. he looks at asgore’s face, catches his eyeline, follows it to the kid. “ah,” he says.

“Ah?” 

“you need a kidsitter?” he asks. frisk wrinkles their nose at him. they’re not a-- “yeah yeah you’re not a baby, did i call you one?” he winks and frisk pouts. “i don’t have plans, i can make sure your kid is flat as a pancake by the time you come back.” 

he’s not really sure why anyone thinks he’s responsible enough for kid duty. toriel had asked him quite a lot. well, he supposes frisk makes it easy most of the time. sure they get into tight spots, but they aren’t nearly the hellion papyrus was at that age. 

“That’s not-- actually. Yes, that would work out fine, I believe. Would you like to stay the night then, so you do not have to make the trip twice over?” asgore is incredibly good at looking pleading and open and soft. 

“eh, gotta text papyrus. he might want a sleepover with his favorite human too. you willing to host that?” he asks. he, uh, doesn’t really want to spend the night under tori’s roof when he knows that he won’t stumble upon her laughing in her kitchen or reading in the armchair by the fireplace. unfortunately, his brother is really cool and everyone knows that.

“I’d be delighted to have your brother here. He’d be welcome.” 

he texts papyrus. papyrus would REALLY, REALLY LOVE TO HAVE A “SLEEP” OVER AT THE HUMAN’S, SANS! BECAUSE I AM SUCH A GOOD AND PREPARED FRIEND, I WILL BRING ALL THE NECESSARY EQUIPMENT. SPAGHETTI, PUZZLES, A VACUUM! 

his brother really lightens the mood when he arrives. bearing puzzles and tupperware containers of food--and dragging a vacuum he insists on using before the night is up--he forcefully injects smiles and optimism into the small gathering. gosh. sans brother is just so cool.

asgore gets along well with Papyrus, he makes a pretty good foil for sans’ excitable brother. still, he bows out of the party games early, thanking them both for offering to keep an eye on the kid the next day. 

sans watches the kid and papyrus giggling together over their puzzle game. they keep trying to entice him to join them but he’s content with dozing on the couch. they rouse him enough to tell him they're ready for bed, looking at him expectantly. 

“hmm, you're right it is getting late. ‘night, then.” he rolls over, mostly to hide his amused face. 

“SANS!” 

he snickers, catches himself, and turns it into a loud snore. 

the kid tugs at his jacket as papyrus yells some more. he keeps pretending. the tugs on his jacket stop, and papyrus goes quiet. sans gets suspicious.

“ONE. TWO. THREE!” there’s a rush of movement and then the kiddo is landing in him. he lets out a whoof of air as they settle on him. 

“ah, nice of you to drop in.” they giggle. papyrus, who is still holding their arms where he helped soften their landing, scoffs. “oh, you wanted a bedtime story before catching some shut-eye?”

“OF COURSE WE DO SANS! IT’S TRADITION!” 

“well, can’t say no to tradition, i guess. settle in.” 

papyrus squeezes onto the couch next to them, and sans begins the story with “once upon a time". 

 

the next morning sans wakes to the sound of people getting ready for the day. none of them are being quiet about it, all of them used to him sleeping through anything. he’d actually had a decent amount of sleep though, and as such his mind is reluctantly drawn to wakefulness. 

the house smells like breakfast spaghetti, so papyrus must’ve convinced asgore to let him in the kitchen already. asgore’s deep voice was commenting on something something sauce, so he is also in the kitchen. that leaves… 

he opens his eyes and meets frisk’s. they grin at him, steady. he returns the smile. 

“morning, kiddo. youre up already? heh, yeah we all know who the lazy bones here is.” he sits up and notices that the kid is dressed in a jumper instead of the pajamas they fell asleep last night. 

“ready to chill today?” he asks. 

they pout at him, smile melting off their face. he raises the ridge above his eye sockets. they just shrug and tug on his sleeve again. 

“alright, time for breakfast, then.” he lets himself be pulled up and dragged to the table where papyrus has already set everything out. 

“oh, neat, bro, spaghetticakes. my favorite!”

“SANS, YOU SAID MY SPAGHETTI CASSEROLE WAS YOUR FAVORITE?”

“yeah, bro, if you make it, it’s my favorite.”

“AWWW, A GENUINE COMPLIMENT!” papyrus takes a moment out of his busy routine to skip over to sans and give due affection. sans soaks it up like a sponge, albeit a lazy one

“so, getting ready for that willing?” sans asks asgore, who is busy pushing his breakfast around his plate.

“Ah, yes. That. That is. I have received word that Frisk should be present, so it turns out your supervision will not be necessary. I am sorry for inconveniencing you and your brother.”

“doesn’t seem like the kid wants to go.” 

“Be that as it may.” asgore starts, and then let’s go, as if it explains everything. 

“why not just, you know, let the kid hang out here. no need to drag ‘em with you.” 

“It’s very important they attend.” he sighs, resigned. “If sparing them this would benefit them in the long run, I would do so.” he admits. “Again, I apologize for inconveniencing you.”

sans shrugs at the kid. he tried.

“OH. NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE! THOUGH IT DOES SEEM MEAN TO HAVE GOTTEN FRISK’S HOPES TO HANG OUT WITH A COOL SKELETON LIKE ME UP AND THEN NOT FOLLOW THROUGH ON THAT PROMISE…. PERHAPS WE CAN STILL ‘HANG’ AFTER YOUR COURT THING?” 

frisk nods excitedly. they want ice cream. 

“I do have something to attend after the meeting. I was planning on taking Frisk, but if you’d still like to watch them?”

“OF COURSE!”

“Would it be too much trouble to accompany us to the reading then? That way no one will have to make this trip twice.”

sans narrows his eye-sockets. “was really planning on, uh, taking it easy today.” 

“NONSENSE SANS. YOU TAKE IT EASY EVERYDAY. WE’LL JOIN YOU.”

well. now papyrus would just carry him there if he tried to stay behind. 

asgore prefers wearing those tropical shirts with the obnoxious patterns and dad shorts. today he’s wearing a suit. sans wonders where toriel was hiding an asgore sized suit-- why she was hiding an asgore sized suit-- or if asgore had brought it with him and hung it somewhere in toriel’s closet. the guest room closet, perhaps, but still toriel’s. 

sans would be wearing that suit jacket if he’d ever gotten around to buying it. as it is, he’s dressed in his dirty blue hoodie. everyone else in the room is wearing clean, somber colors. except papyrus of course, in his bright scarf.

he doesn’t mind. he’s too busy passing notes to frisk, who is on the verge of tears. he wants to be mad at asgore. but he looks on the verge of tears as well. the kid opens the note. it’s a poorly drawn caricature of the human reading the legalese of toriel’s will. it startles a chuckle out of the kid. 

“The house will be donated to the Monster Wellness Association, under conditions that they use it in line with their mission statement, stipulations on page 8.”

Frisk tenses again and sans wants to grab their hand and take ‘em to get ice cream right now! all this was doing was making the kid realize how much of their mother they were losing at once. not just toriel herself, but the kitchen she cooked in, the fireplace, the cozy room sans had “helped" paint (there was one skeletal handprint underneath the even coat). 

“All of my worldly belongings are bequeathed to my child, Frisk. Frisk may part and parcel them how they choose, though I ask them to consider donating what they do not wish to keep or give to friends to a reputable charity.”

the kid’s breath starts to hitch. sans doesnt know how to help. he has a feeling silly notes wont cut it his time. instead he puts his hand out, and isnt surprised when the kid grips it shakily. 

“Concerning Frisk, as I am their only gaurdian and there is no next of kin to take on that role, I will offer my intentions here.” asgore shuts his eyes. ouch, that’s rough, buddy. maybe calling frisk his kid was a little premature. but what else was sans supposed assume? though asgore and toriel had broken up years ago, sans just thought. you know. asgore would, uh. Inherit the kid?

“Though, perhaps unexpected, I believe this the best course of action for everyone involved. I would like to name C. Sans guardian of my child, Frisk.”

because asgore actually had kid, heh, raising experience and toriel had known him for-- wait. What?

“what was that?” 

frisk looks at him with wide eyes.

Papyrus looks at him with wide eyes. 

“WOWIE BROTHER! DOES THIS MAKE ME AN UNCLE?”

even he knows it would be a dick move to short _cut_ the hell out of there. the kid still has his hand so he can’t anways, unless he wants a hitchhiker. he does glare in asgore’s direction. asgore avoids his eyeline. coward. 

well. perhaps sans shouldn't be throwing stones. 

he keeps his peace so the rest of tori’s will can be read. quietly biding his time, trying to catch asgore’s eyes, avoiding the kid’s. he still doesn’t take away his hand, and the kid hasn’t let go, but he doesn’t think that reassures either of them. 

once the place nearly clears out, sans stands and corners the officiator. asgore seems to have a similar idea. 

“OH! FRISK WHY DON’T WE LOOK FOR ICE CREAM. OUTSIDE. WHERE ICE CREAM IS?”

papyrus meets sans’ eyes for half a second. long enough for sans to feel properly chastised and encouraged, like papyrus had found time to lecture and give him a pep talk all within a glance. a pepyrus talk. Heh.

once theyre both gone, he faces the front of the room. 

“so you knew about this, ‘gorey?” there’s a question mark, but it isn’t really a question. 

“I could not find the right time to bring it up. Toriel had, ah, discussed it with me before. I thought she was planning to have this conversation with you, and it was not my place to intercede and yet…” he trails off. 

“you want the kid, don’t you?”

“I do, of course. And will take them in if you find you're not ready to take the responsibility.”

“thought you’d put up more of a fight,” 

the boss monster squares his shoulders and faces sans, for real. his stare flinty, stern. 

“Do not mistake me, Sans. You are my friend, but if I thought for a second you would do wrong by Toriel’s memory, we would already be in a courtroom.” his eyes soften just a bit, “As it is, that would leave Frisk in a precarious position, and I would not wish to do that when there are other, less drastic means.” 

sans hummed, shrugging his shoulders under his jacket. “youre hoping i back out so theres no fuss or muss, eh?” 

“You,” asgore scratches his nose, caught out. “You are not known for taking on such responsibility, by your own admission, my friend.” 

“hmn,” sans acknowledges his point, “so i, uh, what, refuse custody and the kid gets to go home to your place?”

“Well,” the human interrupts, “Frisk would be temporarily placed in child services, as you are the only officially named next of kin. They’d go down the list-- perhaps your brother, since he is _your_ next of kin-- evaluating each person’s qualifications as guardian. It could take quite a while before Mr. Dreemur is considered, though I’m sure it could be expedited.” 

sans narrows his eye sockets, “whattabout what the kid wants, eh? you’d just ship ‘em off with strangers when there’s plenty of monsters they know who’d be willin’ to take ‘em in?”

the human shrugs, “Not me, personally. It’s the system.” 

“The process would not take long at all,” asgore says, “It would be quite quick after I submit my application.” 

“why was tori so deadset on me havin the kid anyways,”

“I’m afraid it is more that she didn't want me to have them. She was still quite mad at me, despite how she pretended at aloofness.”

sans considered. “why wouldnt she want you to step in, ‘gorey? youre not terrible, whatever your differences. she never had a problem with frisk spending time with you.” 

Asgore’s mouth flattened, as did his ears. “Her arguments were… several. I suppose. I am often quite busy, caring full time for frisk would require careful scheduling. I also live quite a distance away, and moving would most likely require frisk to change school zones. They are not unimportant issues but also not something I cannot overcome.”

“yeah, thats what i figured too, but if that were it, tori would've still listed you as an option… something you ain’t telling me?” 

sans carefully examines asgore’s face. the tightening of his jaw, the wrinkle between his brows. considers toriel, what she would say about her and asgores lives, when they were together. 

he used to be so reliable, she said.

sans would argue that asgore is still reliable. busy, yes. he is the official monster delegate, wielding almost unparalleled political power of course he’s busy. but even as such he always makes time for frisk, his duties, his friends, his hobbies. though sans can see the weight of it on him, he also knows asgore would not let it interfere with frisk’s care.

but then he stopped being reliable for toriel. made decisions about their lives he didn’t consult her about. and when she did try to talk to him about it, he nodded and listened and was sad and contrite but did not bend. it became something toriel could not-- didn’t want to--overcome. so she left.

“what if frisk doesn't want to switch schools?” 

“I don’t foresee it being difficult to persuade them of the advantages of a different school district. They aren't a troublesome child.”

“‘course not. hey, why don't we ask them?”

“What?” asgores eyebrows climb up his worried forehead. 

“yeah, seems like something they should have a say in, ya’know.” he walks to the door as asgore stumbles over his words.

“You do not think-- all of this stress they are already under-- I understand the importance of--” 

and he pulls the door open, a skeleton and a child tumbling into the room when they didn’t scramble back fast enough. sans raises an orbital ridge at his brother. papyrus pops back up and dusts off his body. 

“WHY FRISK… IT LOOKS LIKE THE ICE CREAM IS NOT HERE??” 

sans shakes his head and looks down at frisk. “whaddaya say, kiddo?” 

frisk looks up at him, nervously, before glancing at asgore. the big guy just waves a little, smiling softly. he really does just want the best for frisk, he just has a tendency to make decisions first and cry about them later. 

“hey, ‘sall right, buddy, it’s not a decision you have to make now, alright? we can have another sleepover and talk about it in the morning.” 

frisk nods, cautiously standing up, reaching for Papyrus’s hand. they go get icecream.

 

despite the will it still takes awhile for toriel’s wishes to go through with finalization. this mostly means sans is spending a lot of nights on toriel's couch while waiting for frisk’s decision. finally the deed for the house changes names and sans gets the notification. 

frisk is still a child, there's no way they know what they will have wished they'd kept and what to give away. still, sans has no part in this process, and he's slowly realizing asgore doesn't quite have a say either. 

“I can have the important things moved to my home, or a storage facility for Frisk to go through when they are feeling up to it. I can have a list of charities by tomorrow as well, for the rest of it.”

“they gave us time, no one is gonna kick us out because frisk hasn't sorted through everything.” sans feels the need to say, since frisk is still in their room. 

“I would not throw away anything of sentimental value.” asgore seems offended. 

“didn't say so, buddy, just think that maybe frisk should have a say instead of dealing with whatever we think is important instead.”

asgore's nostrils flare, but his shoulders slump and he nods his head. “We shouldn't tarry, however kind the MWA are being.”

sans thinks that the MWA will let them stay as long as they need, but he doesn't press the issue. he decides he should ask the kid how they want to go about this. he kind of doesn't want to deal with it. but if frisk doesn't make their decision, asgore will and though sans isn't the sentimental type he can tell frisk is. what if they throw away a pie tin, and in twenty years frisk will have a break down because they dont have their mother's pie tin to make their mother's favorite pie? 

well, maybe he's over thinking this. 

he knocks on their bedroom door, then lets himself in. 

frisk is a lump on the floor, not even under any blankets. sans steps into the room. 

“what's up, kiddo?” they turn to look at him, and their face is miserable. yeah, hearing that it was time to pack up and divide what was left of your mother's life would do that to you. 

“you don't have to do it on your own, kiddo. you’ll have all the help you can want.” frisk wipes under their eyes hastily, though they aren't crying. “i can call pap, he’ll be down to help with everything. he can bring undyne--she probably won't suplex anything if you ask her.” 

frisk’s smile is wobbly.

“asgore has got a place set up to help store everything you want, you don't have to worry about space.” frisk hiccups softly, surprising themselves and sans cant help but chuckle at their surprised expression. 

he takes the opportunity to shuffle closer and pat their back reassuringly. humans are so weird, with their flesh and trapped air bubbles and reflexively convulsive muscles.

when they calm down, frisk tugs his sleeve enough to get his attention. he inhales a bit sharp. they smile at him hopefully. 

“...yeah, you got me, too.” their smile grows. he gets an idea, and lets himself drop on them. he hears them make a noise of surprise. “oh no,” he says, “looks like you really got me, you're too strong.” 

frisk is giggling, pretending to shove him away with their small hands. “i can't escape, your gravitational pull is just too strong,” he leans more weight onto them, carefully. frisk is laughing now, breathless as they flail their limbs, pushing at his loose jacket and his rough bones. with a jolt they finally collapse, and they both fall flat. 

he laughs, and waits until they focus on him again, their cheeks and eyes red, but not from stifling tears anymore. “hey, kiddo.” frisk hums in acknowledgment. “looks like your stuck with me, huh.” 

their hand finds his again. 

he finds he's starting to mind it less.

 

the kid is looking indecisive at the trash. sans is leaning against the counter. he's sure that toriel would have asked frisk to take the garbage bag to the curb as one of their chores before-- well. and now the kid is frozen, sad eyes staring at the garbage can with something heavy crawling across their back.

sans doesn't know what it's like, longing so deeply for something. sometimes, he's not sure he really knows what feeling anything is like anymore.

there's nothing more that sans wants than to leave frisk to have this moment alone. but he'd already promised the kid that they were stuck with him, and it's not like he is going to make himself useful by actually packing up tori’s--now the kid’s--belongings. so he stays, and watches frisk's shoulders stiffen with decision. 

they take out the trash. 

it's one more thing they're saying goodbye to.

a lot of the furniture has been parceled between the friends gathered to help frisk. undyne had snagged quite a few kitchen appliances, asgore had been surprised and touched when frisk gave him toriel's bookshelves and her treasured chairiel. 

there were quite a few things frisk was donating as well, both to a monster shelter--a lot of toriel's non-perishable foodstuffs and blankets--and to the mwa group moving in. 

some other things were for asgore's storage system, to be considered another day--toriel’s clothes, her stacks of books, the teaching supplies. 

frisk seems reluctant to actually keep anything for themselves, despite sans insisting that they can keep every item in the house. not like asgore cant afford that much storage. there's a lot that frisk lingers over, but hesitates to grab. a book of snail facts that frisk rubs a finger over before placing it in a box headed for asgore's house. 

sans, despite everything else, knows the importance of bedtime stories and he knicks the tome when noone is looking. 

and now frisk is getting teary eyed over the trash can. sans doesn't want to psychoanalyze that, but it's not like he can stop himself from reading the tense lines in their body. 

he hops up onto the kitchen counter, the movement familiar enough to him. he knocks into the knife block, and frisk’s eyes snap to him. their gaze slides over to the knives, contemplating. 

they drag a new box to the counter and reach towards the cabinets, ignoring the knives. 

“oh, you think since i'm up here i'm game to help you?” he leans back, resting against the backsplash, short enough that the cabinets dont bother him. 

they shake their head and rattle the box insistently and sans relents.

“‘k. but only ‘cause youre even shorter than me.” and instead of reaching up to hand the mugs in the cupboard to the kid, he just turns their soul blue and lifts them up to the cabinets. 

they laugh, delighted, and plop the box on sans' lap, before getting down to business.

frisk isn't going about this methodically, though they are being thorough. it probably doesn't help that the rest of their friends are disorganized themselves, each deciding to tack different areas. mostly this means that frisk has already helped undyne and papyrus pack up a lot of the dishes and pots and pie tins--frisk didn't keep any for themselves, but gave Papyrus everything from the casserole dish to the smallest tart round. sans doesnt know why, his brother doesn't really bake and always looks quizzical when sans offers a quiche on the rare occasion sans gives him a night off from dinner duty--but there are still coffee mugs since undyne has too many already and Papyrus doesn't really drink things that can't be put into a normal glass. 

frisk carefully pulls these down and hands them to sans, who dutifully wraps them in newspaper and places them into the box. toriel had a lot of mugs, a lot of funny ones and collectible ones. he huffs a laugh at _i like you a latte_ as he wraps the papers around it. 

frisk laughs as well, and hands him another, this one saying _this is some_ with a picture of a koala and a tea bag. that one is very good. 

another mug, another joke. _“that's what.” -she_ is particularly clever and sans can see it delighting the part of toriel who loved teaching. 

frisk gestures to be let down and as soon as their feet touch the tile they take off to another cabinet, digging through the contents before running back to sans and the box.

sans wraps up a salt shaker and tilts his head and the ceramic battery sculpture paired with it. frisk huffs and shakes some pepper out of the batter and sans is positively delighted. 

“a salt and _battery_!” sans laughs, doubling over on the counter, “that one really--” he tries to catch a breath between his chuckling, “that one really packs a punch, kid!”

frisk helps sans off the counter when he gets over his laughing fit, and gathers a few more punny kitchenware for the box before giving it back to sans. 

“alright, where do’ya want this one?” he follows frisk's direction and sets the box down, deliberately separate from but still related to Papyrus’ stack of boxes. 

“oh--” he, uh, he doesn't know what to say now. 

frisk looks at him, expression determined. 

“IS THIS ONE MY BROTHER'S THEN?”

Papyrus swoops in and snags the box from between them.

“ah, pap--”

“YES, SANS?” Papyrus looks guilelessly at sans, cradling the box. frisk is nervously biting their lip. okay. yeah, this isn't the hill he's going to die on. he can just. put them in a drawer somewhere and not look at them, or something. no need to get worked up about this. ‘s not like his kitchen is already going to be filled up with tori's left behinds. 

“there's uh, ceramics in there. so.” 

“OF COURSE I WILL BE CAREFUL WITH THEM, SANS! THAT'S WHY I AM CARRYING THEM. I AM THE BEST AT CARRYING THINGS. I CARRY YOU ALL THE TIME!”

“you're right.” 

Papyrus spins on his heel and marches out the door like he's afraid sans is going to unpack the box if he isn't fast enough. sans sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

most of the house is packed up now. undyne os clattering somewhere throwing junk in a box to be donated probably. asgore is marking things to be put in storage.

a touch nudges his hand, and sans looks down to see the kid looking at him from beneath their fringe. the kitchen is clear enough for frisk, the kid is content that anything left can be claimed by their friends or given away now that they've gotten sans to accept the box. 

sans lets his hand turn so he can catch frisk's fingers. “alright, what's next?” 

frisk tightens the hold and leads him down the hall, to toriel's room. sans feels his grin take a nervous shade, but. he said he'd be there for the kid, he can't run away now. 

frisk’s grip is too tight.

the door creaks open and sans is led inside. the lights are off and the kid does not turn them on, so neither does sans. they tug him over to a desk where they finally let go of his hand. he’s in it too far to leave now, so he puts his hands in his pockets while the kid carefully goes through the desk drawers. 

tori’s room is quaint, tidy. like he would expect from her, if he had to guess. her bed is tucked in a corner, taking up more room than a standard but less than a king, the covers smoothed and well made but not like a perfectionist did them up. there is a chest and a dresser. everything is unassuming. 

frisk closes a drawer with care so sans takes his cue and refocuses his attention on them. 

they are holding out a book. 

“oh, kiddo…” 

oh, kiddo indeed. they hold out the book insistently. sans does not take it. they insist again. sans dodges. 

“c’mon that’s, kid… it’s-- that’s uh,” he runs out of words. 

they pull back the book just to flip it open, searching for a page to show him. he doesn’t want to see it. they show him anyways. it’s just a simple planner, a teacher’s agenda. days divided into squares with notes written in the corners. almost like a journal. there’s an entry circled and sans can’t help but read it. 

_Why did the skeleton want a friend? …. Because she was feeling BONELY!_

frisk closes the book and offers it again like a question. sans shakes his head. 

“i just…” it’s too much, he doesn’t say. he’s been doing good at not thinking about it. he’s been doing really good and avoiding the thoughts and memories and expecting her braying laughter after he tells a joke and finding its absence instead. 

he spent so much time trying to minimize the damage. he can remember the first time he stopped and realized _this was going to hurt, when it ended_ and known he’d been in too deep to stop it from hurting at all because toriel had made it so hard to just not care but he had been preparing himself for the inevitability that she’d get tired of him, or offended? or that he’d mess something up like he always does and she’d be out of his life, because the only good thing he ever managed to keep was Papyrus and that was inexplicably in spite of everything sans ever did. 

this was so much worse than he was expecting. 

all that effort and now everywhere he turns there’s a space that isn’t empty but doesn’t have potential anymore. his next words don’t have the potential to make toriel laugh, anymore. the spaces between his fingers no longer have the potential to get chalky with flour. he’ll never be able to tell tori that, yeah, this time he’d tag along as a pta chaperone for a fieldtrip, make some prime parents from hell jokes, yeah? all this time keeping himself a couple feet withdrawn, content to whilst away the _maybes_ and _somedays_ and now all he has to show for it is a sad kid and a journal telling him how _lonely_ tori was. 

he wasn’t much good for anything, but he’d had a chance to be a good friend. now that, like everything else, was gone. 

he can’t meet the kid’s eyes. he knows he has some kinda responsibility here but. he’ll mess it up anyways, won’t he? he already is. he actually already has. he’s surprised Papyrus isn’t more messed up than he lets on. 

he’s through the bedroom door almost before he’s made a decision, but he doesn’t step into the hallway of toriel’s house. instead he steps onto the clashing carpet of his and his bro’s second floor, the door behind him clicking shut. he stands there for a moment. 

he guesses that it was time for the punchline to hit. it took such a long while, of course it was sure to be a _knockout_.

there’s nothing left to do, but slip into his room and clock out for the day. 

 

he gets away with it for longer than he expected, honestly. and the wake up is far gentler than he expects. 

“SANS?”

papyrus finally knocks on his door. it’s been… sans squints at the dark of his ceiling. well, it can’t have been too long, none of his bosses have called him, at least. 

“SANS… MAY I COME IN?” 

sans shifts his head to peak out at the door frame. everything’s dark so he’d be able to see if the frame was on. it’s not. he looks back at the ceiling. he hears Papyrus shifting as he waits for an invitation. sans knows he should say something but he can’t bring himself to. Papyrus finally settles against the door, sans can hear him slide down against it. 

“I HAVE FINISHED PUTTING AWAY… EVERYTHING. EVEN THE MUGS. I ASKED IF YOU WANTED THEM ANYWHERE SPECIFIC BUT… YOU DIDN’T ANSWER. SO I PUT THEM IN THE CUPBOARD! THE ONE YOU CAN REACH. I HOPE THAT IS OKAY.”

that’s considerate of him. sans should say so. 

“I WILL TAKE YOUR SILENCE AS THE RINGING ENDORSEMENT I AM SURE IT IS. THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOT DISCOURAGED BY YOUR CONTINUED SILENCE AT ALL.” 

sans stays silent. 

“OF COURSE… IF YOU WERE TO BREAK YOUR SILENCE BY. PERHAPS. SPEAKING TO ME. OR EVEN MAKING SOME SORT OF SOUND ACKNOWLEDGING THAT YOU ARE, IN FACT, ALIVE IN THERE, IT WOULD NOT BE REMISS.”

that makes sans blink. oh right. yeah. right. he pushes himself up. he should say something but. but that still feels like too much. like if he said something it might. it might start something he can’t stop. he pats around for his phone. 

he digs it out of one of his pockets. it’s still got a charge--thank you alphys--and it’s set to silent. there are some missed notifications but he ignores them to pull up papyrus’ contact. he composes a message. short, sweet, to the point: im awake 

he hears the buzz of Papyrus’ phone. 

“OH-- OH GOOD. GOOD.” 

his voice sounds shaky, relief in every octave. good going sans, brother of the year, there. 

“FINALLY YOU BREAK YOUR LAZY STREAK! CONGRATULATIONS, BROTHER, YOU ARE ONE STEP CLOSER TO BREAKING YOUR SELF IMPOSED ISOLATION AND REUNITING WITH SOCIETY. I’M VERY PROUD OF YOU.” the thing is, Papyrus doesn’t even sound sarcastic, because he is very proud of sans. 

“YOU MISSED UNDYNE SUPLEXING ASGORE AFTER YOU. LEFT.” Papyrus offers in the silence sans let grow. “SHE KEPT TRYING TO SNEAK UP ON HIM AFTER THE FURNITURE WAS CLEARED. ALPHYS HAS PICTURES. PROBABLY.” 

“FRISK SPENT THE NIGHT TO HELP UNDYNE AND ALPHYS, WHICH THEY COULD DO BECAUSE THEY ARE ON A TEMPORARY BREAK FROM SCHOOL AND AS SUCH DOES NOT NEED TO GET UP EARLY AND BE CAREFULLY DELIVERED TO THE CAMPUS AS IS CUSTOMARY FOR A HUMAN THEIR AGE.”

despite everything, sans can tell Papyrus is trying to lead up to something. sans still cannot find his voice, but his brother is doing his best and what would sans be if he didn’t try, too? he rolls carefully onto the floor. 

“I HAVE CONSIDERATELY RESEARCHED THE RULES AND REGULATIONS OF FRISK’S SCHOOL SYSTEM, AS A SELFLESS BOON BECAUSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS NOT ONLY THOUGHTFUL AND GENEROUS, HE IS PREPARED! IT WAS NOT BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TO DISTRACT MYSELF FROM. THINGS.” 

sans stumbles in his fumbling steps to stand. 

“I AM NOT SURE YOU ARE AWARE, BROTHER, BUT THERE ARE **TWO SETS OF HOURS** , REFLECTING EACH OTHER. THIS MEANS THERE IS A SEVEN IN THE **MORNING** AS WELL AS THE EVENING. THOUGH THIS IS AN HOUR I SEE VERY OFTEN, AS A RESPONSIBLE MEMBER OF SOCIETY WITH A DEDICATION TO HIS JOB, IT IS ONE I KNOW YOU ARE UNACCUSTOMED TO ENTERTAINING. REGARDLESS… THIS IS THE HOUR FRISK MUST BE UP TO START GETTING READY FOR THEIR SCHOOLING, IF THEY ARE TO MAKE IT ON TIME.” 

Papyrus’ voice trills, the way it does when he starts up his monologues, settling into his speech. sans can almost see the way his hands gesticulate, gloves underlining the points in his words. 

“AND OF COURSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL RELISH THE CHANCE TO TAKE OUR TINY HUMAN FRIEND TO SCHOOL ON THE WAY TO HIS IMPORTANT JOB! HOWEVER THERE ARE TIMES WHEN I MUST BE UP MUCH EARLIER THAN EVEN SEVEN IN THE MORNING, AND FRISK CANNOT BE EXPECTED TO MAKE THE LONG AND POTENTIALLY PERILOUS PATH THEMSELVES… “

here his hand would flutter, nervously, as if conjuring the next set of words he has to speak.

“AND, THOUGH APPARENTLY BREAKS ARE MANDATORY AND MUST BE TAKEN DESPITE A HEALTHY WORK ETHIC--” Papyrus audibly stops himself from going on a tangent. “--THERE IS NOT ONE LONG ENOUGH AT THE RIGHT TIME TO PICK THEM UP AFTER SCHOOL.”

“AND. THOUGH MY COOKING IS UNPARALLELED AND FILLED WITH PASSION, HUMANS NEED MORE THAN MAGIC TO KEEP THEIR GROSS HUMAN BITS RUNNING PROPERLY. AND HUMANS NEED A LOT OF SOCIAL INTERACTION, ESPECIALLY CHILDREN, IN THE FORM OF SUPERVISED ‘PLAY DATES' WHICH ARE NOT COVERED IN THE DATING MANUAL! “

“AND THERE IS A THING CALLED PTA? AND ONE MUST JOIN THE PTA IN ORDER TO FULFILL OPTIMUM GUARDIAN POTENTIAL AND THE GREAT PAPYRUS JUST DOES NOT HAVE TIME TO ATTEND EXTRA CURRICULAR ACTIVITIES IF THEY DO NOT OCCUR BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 5PM AND 4AM, WHICH THE SCHOOL ASSURES ME THEY DO NOT! I CANNOT BELI--”

sans opens the door and Papyrus tumbles backward, falling onto the floor with a noise of surprise. 

“what's a matter, bro? all this worrying is making you fall down.” the weight of the sentence hits sans all at once. “i mean, fall over-- uh, that's, sorry, that one was awful.”

“NYEH HEH HEH, SANS!” Papyrus laughs from the floor, giving sans a faint sense of unreality. Papyrus laughing at a terrible joke while sans looks down at him. things have been weird lately. 

“stop laughing, bro, we really gotta get your funny bone checked out.”

“FORGIVE ME IF I ENJOY JAPES THAT REQUIRE A LITTLE MORE BACK _BONE_ THAN YOU LIKE TO MAKE!” 

sans shakes his head. this is one of those times he would choose to smile if he had a choice. his brother is really the best. even if his brother is working himself up for some reason. 

“what’re you really upset about?” sans asks, letting his shoulder lean against the doorframe. 

“I AM NOT UPSET! I JUST. WANT TO SUPPORT YOU IN THE THINGS YOU DECIDE TO DO.”

“support me?” sans crosses his arms. Papyrus gives him an incredulous look, like sans is the one acting topsy turvy today. 

“I KNOW YOUR MEMORY GETS WEIRD WHEN YOU HAVE ONE OF THESE SAD NAPS. BUT YOU CANNOT FORGET YOUR COMMITMENT TO FRISK WHILE THEY CHOOSE IN WHICH DIRECTION THE REST OF THEIR LIFE WILL GO!”

“that’s exaggerating just a bit, bro.”

“YOU AND I BOTH KNOW IT IS NOT!” 

sans shrugs. then sighs. “i think… i already messed this up.” 

“BUT NOT IRREPARABLY, BROTHER. MISS TORI-- THE HOUSE IS PACKED UP NOW, AND FRISK CANNOT STAY THERE ANY LONGER. ASGORE HAS BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO, AND YOU ARE THEIR LEGAL GUARDIAN FOR NOW! SO THEY WILL BE RETURNING HERE. YOU CAN APOLOGIZE!” papyrus squints up at sans. “OR MAYBE PRETEND IT NEVER HAPPENED, BUT RESOLVE TO DO BETTER IN THE FUTURE!” 

“ouch,” 

“I’M ONLY SAYING THE TRUTH. YOU’RE VERY AVOIDANT. BUT EITHER WAY, I AM HERE TO SUPPORT YOU. OR. I WANT TO BE HERE TO SUPPORT YOU.” 

“things would… have to change a lot, huh.” 

Papyrus is not a monster that enjoys hiding his feelings, and so it’s very easy for sans to see the concern and doubt in his brother’s face as Papyrus leans back and stares up at him. his brother radiates openness, an easy ear to listen to him, if either of them had ears. 

“heh, have to start scheduling my naps again, huh.”

“YOU MAY HAVE TO EVEN QUIT ONE OF YOUR JOBS TO FIT THEM ALL IN!” papyrus is way too excited by that.

“yeah, heh.” he swallows. they can afford for him to drop a job or two, but doing so makes sans uneasy. sure he’d have more time off, Papyrus doesn’t need sans to provide a cushion anymore, and it’s been a long, long time since sans has needed to “figure something out” when bills started piling up in the mail. 

“what if they decide to stay?” he asks, hunching inwards. 

“THEN THESE CHANGES MAY BE PERMANENT FOR US! I CAN SUBMIT CHANGES TO MY AVAILABLE HOURS, SO YOU DO NOT HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING BY YOURSELF. AGAIN.”

“you love your job.” 

“I WOULDN’T BE QUITTING SANS! IN FACT, I HAVE A SUSPICION THAT MY BOSS WOULD VERY MUCH LIKE IT IF I STOPPED CLOCKING IN ON THE WEEKENDS.” Papyrus shakes his head wryly. 

“okay, yeah, maybe you should stop doin that.” he crosses his arms and hisses air through his teeth. “i want to argue that you shouldn’t have to step in when i can’t uh, can’t do something myself, or by myself. but you’re being frustratingly good at cutting off my points of argument.” 

“THANK YOU! I HAVE BEEN PRACTICING. YOU’RE VERY GOOD AT DEFLECTING AND I NEEDED TO STRENGTHEN MY OFFENSE IN RETALIATION.”

“you shouldn’t have to do that, i should just be able to talk about this without getting, heh, rattled.” 

“AND WE ARE BACK TO THE LOWEST TIER OF HUMOR. BROTHER. ALL MY LIFE, YOU HAVE BEEN HELPING ME! ALONE! AND I WOULD BE DOING YOU A DISSERVICE IF I INSISTED I NEEDED TO ‘PAY YOU BACK’ FOR ALL THE YEARS YOU SUPPORTED ME. BUT, I WOULD LIKE THE CHANCE TO HELP YOU, TOO. I WOULD LIKE THE CHANCE TO _DO_ THINGS. WITH YOU. AND FEEL LIKE I AM HELPING.”

“AND, I THINK I WOULD LIKE TO ‘PAY IT FORWARD’. I LIKE FRISK VERY MUCH, AND IF THEY CHOSE TO STAY WITH YOU--WITH US--THEN I THINK I WOULD LIKE LEARNING HOW TO TAKE CARE OF THEM AS WELL. I WOULD LIKE TO BE THERE FOR THEM, THE WAY YOU WERE THERE FOR ME.” he doesn’t need to say “the way no one was there for you,” but sans can read it off his face easy enough. 

he must make some sort of expression, because Papyrus finally sits up, kneeling so he can glare into sans’ face. 

“YOU ARE THINKING ‘but Papyrus, I was terrible at raising you when I, myself, was a child and had no idea what I was doing’ BUT YOU ARE WRONG. AS PROOF: LOOK AT ME, I AM EXCELLING AT LIFE!” Papyrus gestures at the whole of himself, smiling broadly. sans laughs half-heartedly. 

“you are pretty great, bro. but you deserved a better life than what i could give you. frisk deserves a better one, too. and they had tori-- uh. they had tori. there’s no way i can live up to her. i don’t know why she named me anyways, unless it was a joke.” it’s a joke sans would laugh at, too, in any other situation. 

“SANS.” Papyrus actually puts his hands on sans’ shoulders and gives him a shake, the frustration welling up in him. “I DO NOT KNOW HOW MANY DIFFERENT WAYS THAT I CAN PUT IT. BUT! YOU! DID THE BEST THAT YOU COULD! AND YOU WILL DO THE BEST THAT YOU CAN IF FRISK DECIDES TO STAY WITH US! I KNOW YOU ENJOY PRETENDING TO BE LAZY AND ACTING LIKE YOU DON’T EXPEND ANY EFFORT. BUT SOMETIMES IT SEEMS LIKE YOU BELIEVE IT, AND I CANNOT STAND THAT.”

“YOU DO NOT HAVE TO BE PERFECT, YOU’RE GOOD ENOUGH SANS! TORIEL CHOSE YOU, INSTEAD OF ANYONE ELSE, BECAUSE SHE KNEW THIS! AND SHE HAD EYES! SHE COULD SEE HOW MUCH EFFORT YOU PUT INTO FRISK, EVEN AS JUST A FAMILY FRIEND! IT WAS NOT A JOKE. YOUR LIFE ISN’T A JOKE, SANS. YOU’RE MUCH BETTER AT THINGS THAN YOU THINK YOU ARE, AND IF YOU CANNOT BELIEVE IT, THEN I WILL BE RIGHT HERE TO CONTINUE TELLING YOU.”

‘“aw, geeze, pap.” 

“AND,” Papyrus looks to the side, shifty eyed, “IF YOU CANNOT BELIEVE ME--”

“hey, no, pap--”

“YOU SHOULD READ THIS.” Papyrus pulls out the same book that startled sans into running away in the first place. it’s plain cover unassuming in papyrus’ gloved palm. 

“Papyrus…”

“YOU DO NOT HAVE TO KEEP IT, BUT YOU SHOULD READ IT. WHEN YOU CAN. SANS, I KNOW TORIEL MEANT A LOT TO YOU. THOUGH YOU TRY TO HIDE IT? FOR SOME REASON? I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY, BUT IT’S VERY HARD TO PRETEND YOU DO NOT LIKE HER WHEN YOU ACTUALLY PICK UP THE PHONE WHEN SHE CALLS, OR DITCH YOUR EVENING NAP TO SLEEP ON HER COUCH AND EAT HER FOOD OR-- OH,”

Papyrus stops in the middle of his rant. sans’ shoulders are shaking. sans doesn’t know when that started, this whole conversation makes him want to crawl back into the depression on his mattress. 

“I’M SORRY.” Papyrus sets the journal down. “I FORGOT, I’M SORRY.” he carefully puts his arms around sans’ shoulders, like any pressure will make crush sans. after a second, papyrus pulls sans closer, and makes the loose cradle into a real hug. “IT’S OKAY, SANS, IT REALLY IS.”

sans’ face is pressed against the fabric of Papyrus’ shoulder. Papyrus’ arms are locked around sans like, like something sturdy and lasting. something safe. and despite that cold feeling in his chest, the ice that crawls up his spine when he stops to _think_ about anything, the purple karma that drips from his hands when he looks at them. despite everything, in this one moment, he thinks maybe Papyrus is right. maybe it’s okay. 

sans, for the first time in, stars, _years_ , starts to cry. 

 

it’s not that sans is _trying_ to ignore the apology he owes, or that he’s trying to prove Papyrus right. it’s just that he needs to figure himself out, and do it in a very compressed time. so while Papyrus puts together a quick lunch, and takes the kid out (for more icecream) and comes back with increasingly exasperated but still supportive side-eyes and pointed remarks about the _living_ room and emotional depth, sans hides in the basement. 

there’s a photo album sans keeps there, with some other things that he likes to avoid direct contact with. he hasn’t actually opened the album in years, but he can’t just throw it away. even if just because it’s not only his, but papyrus’ too. what if twenty years in the future, indeed. 

sans knows he has issues. he can even trace why he acts like _that_ for a good number of those issues. he didn’t have the chance to be a picky eater as a kid, so now he’s just a garbage disposal. he got in the habit of scrimping so he could make the bills, and even though he’s got a safety net now, it’s a habit he’s unwilling to break. 

some of them are harder for him to place--he like making people laugh, to the point that he knows he can be obnoxious or will have to work harder at being taken serious. maybe making jokes is easier than honest emotional labor (true). maybe making people laugh is the fastest way to take control of a situation (true)--but he can conjure up a guess or two. 

sometimes, he just. doesn’t know, and thinking about it doesn’t really help--sometimes he’ll order something online, only to get it twice even though he’s pretty sure he only got it once. he only ordered one of them, he should return the second, but he’s always so certain it’ll take care of itself. why would it take care of itself? it’s not like his purchases and bank account get reset after a week--so he doesn’t think about it. 

so. grieving. it’s not something he has practice with, not for lack of opportunity. it’s why he has a photo album collecting dust in his basement. it’s why even Papyrus doesn’t say much about their past when anyone inquires about the skeleton brothers. it’s why he’s avoiding the child of a _deer_ friend. 

oh, she would’ve like that one.

but he was right, earlier. papyrus deserved a better life than the one sans managed to cobble together, no matter what papyrus has to say about it now. and frisk also deserves better than a bag of bones too bitter, too scared to figure out how to open up a little. 

he was also right, in that frisk should still get to choose. 

“SANS?” papyrus calls down the basement stairs. 

“yeah?”

“TIME FOR DINNER?” 

“are you asking me?” 

“OF COURSE NOT, I AM ANNOUNCING THAT IT IS TIME FOR DINNER! FRISK IS SETTING THE TABLE, PLEASE COME UP, I DO NOT WANT OUR MEAL TO GET COLD!” 

sans smiles from the dinner table, winking at frisk when they turn to set a plate down and sees him. 

“bro, we’re waiting on you now.” 

Papyrus whirls around at the sound of sans’ voice, eyebrows comically raised for someone who has been living with sans their whole lives. he gathers himself expertly and stomps his foot, seamlessly falling back into their familiar, comfortable roles. 

“SANS YOU LAZYBONES! YOU COULD HAVE WALKED UP THE STAIRS!”

“but i didn’t wanna miss your spe _scapula_ cooking!” 

“SANS! YOU KNOW MY COOKING IS WORTH MORE THAN AN EASY PUN!”

“you’re right bro, didn’t mean to punsult you.”

“THAT WAS EVEN WORSE!!”

“you’re smiling anyways.” sans settles back into his chair. 

“I AM! AND! I HATE IT!” 

there’s a clatter of utensils, as frisk kneels on their seat to serve themself, and sans takes the serving spoon from frisk’s hands before papyrus can, motioning them to push their plate closer. “don’t worry kid, i goat you.” 

frisk doesn’t hesitate to let him dump a spoonful of mash potatoes on their plate, and doesn’t object when sans’ grin turns mischievous. he adds another spoonful, and another. and another. and another. 

“SANS!”

“what, you gonna deny the kid a _well balanced_ dinner?” he asks. frisk looks delighted at the slightly leaning tower of potatoes stuck to their plate. Papyrus’ shriek of frustration makes something loosen in sans’ rib cage. 

 

frisk is a good, even tempered kiddo. there’s no comparing them to papyrus at that age. but the guilt that settles behind his jaw when he thinks of them is the same sort that fills him up with he thinks about his brother’s babybone era. 

the kid is staying in Papyrus’ room for the moment, and sans lingers in the doorway. only a little bit creepily. he grips the book in his hand. maybe this is a bad idea. sans should just let frisk get to sleep. they got a lot going on, he doesn’t need to interrupt them. 

he takes a step back towards the staircase. then sidles back to the door. he’s let things go long enough already, though. it doesn’t matter how unruffled the kid acts, sans knows they feel bad about how he acted back at tori’s. and whether they already have forgiven him or not, he needs to let them know it’s not their fault. that he’s the one who is sorry and needs to make up for it. 

it reminds him sharply, of being young and confused but determined, facing the door papyrus insisted on slamming in his face because SHUTTING A DOOR IS A PHYSICAL PUNCTUATION MARK SANS, AND THIS ONE IS AN EXCLAMATION! and having no idea what went wrong or how to fix it, but knowing he couldn’t let this one lie. 

the door opens. 

“ah, sorry, i--ah geeze really?” frisk looks tiredly up at him. okay, so he forgot they could see his shadow under the door frame. that’s only mildly embarassing. 

“did you… want a bedtime story?” he asks. they step away from the door. “yeah, course i have time, kiddo. i wouldn’t offer if there was anything i’d rather be doin.” 

he follows them inside, and though he can tell they are trying to be even keeled, the speed they use to jump back into Papyrus’ bed makes it clear they’re excited about this. he follows at a more sedate pace, thinking over his decision. he could always dig out Fluffy Bunny instead, that’s a classic. but, that wouldn’t mean the same thing. he’s gotta show his hand.

“alright,” he says, settling himself onto the bed with frisk. “let me know if you want a different book, but i thought you might like this one.” he pulls turns the cover so frisk can see. 

“99 snail facts.” a sharp noise escapes frisk, but they don’t protest. sans lets himself smooth their hair over before opening the book. 

“number 99, snails have tongues covered in hundreds of little teeth. okay, that’s, terrifying.” frisk laughs. “yeah i guess it works like a chainsaw? or a file. look here’s a diagram.” he flips the book to show frisk, who nods at the picture. “figure a, the radula, with rows of teeth. wow, didn’t know snails were so _rad_. number 98, snails are part of a group called _gastropod_ _molluscs_ that means, uh, soft stomach foot-- hey, i resemble that remark, heh.” 

he pages through the book with frisk, and if either of them get misty eyed about it. well, at least they can wipe each other’s tears. he pats frisk’s head one last time, before hopping off the bed and turning out the light for them to sleep. 

papyrus is waiting for him downstairs, still settled on the couch. he turns to stare as sans makes his way over, scooting to the side so sans can flop onto the couch. sans’ face still has residue on it from story, and he scrubs it against the couch fibres. Papyrus doesn’t protest. 

“what’s it, paps?” he mumbles into the cushion. 

“FIRST, I’M PROUD OF YOU FOR OPENING UP TO FRISK!”

“thanks?”

“SECOND: IS EMOTIONALLY HEAVY READING MATERIAL THE THEME WITH YOU RECENTLY?” 

“oh,” papyrus is holding the album. “didn’t think you’d find that so fast.”

“IT WAS ON THE TABLE. YOU DIDN’T EVEN HIDE IT IN A JOKE BOOK. I MEAN, IF YOU AREN’T READY AFTER ALL--”

“nah, pap, if i weren’t ready, it’d still be collecting dust downstairs.” 

“... ARE YOU SURE?” 

sans sits up and turns to face papyrus. his brother looks nervous, with an undercurrent of excitement and worry. this is something sans should’ve done a long time ago. instead of dwelling on the guilt he lets himself fall against his brother’s side, grabbing for the photo album. Papyrus gives it to him, and he opens the cover. 

there’s an oval frame, and in that frame is a washed out photo of papyrus’ baby face, mouth open in what sans’ is sure was a ear-piercing shriek. there’s a blurry skeletal hand in the frame, like the suddenness of papyrus’ yell made someone jerk across the camera. below the portrait _papyrus 19XX?_ is written sans’ handwriting. he tilts the page towards papyrus, who reaches out and flips it. 

“WHO’S THAT?”

sans runs a finger across the old photo. something sharp twists behind his sternum, the same thing as always. the thing that makes him want to throw away all these mementos and forget they ever mattered to him because if he doesn’t, he’s afraid his soul is going to shatter. but he’s been hiding for way too long now. 

maybe it’s time sans admits he deserves something better, too. he looks at papyrus’ curious face. he taps his finger against the photo. 

“that was the royal scientist.”

“WHAT’S A ROYAL SCIENTIST AND WHY ARE THEY IN OUR PHOTO ALBUM?”

“oh yeah, the dreemur family used to be, like, filthy rich back in the day. so everyone would call ‘em the monster nation’s royal family. pretty sure they were actually a royal family at some point. anyway, he got that nickname ‘cause the dreemurs liked sponsoring his pet projects.” 

for some reason, with papyrus’ bones digging into his side, sans felt the prickling sensation of ice start melting off his back. Papyrus passes him a ceramic mug as he settles into the story.

tomorrow the kid might decide they’re better off living with asgore. or they might decide they like living with sans and papyrus better. sans might freak out again, or he might be able to wait until he’s not gonna scar the kid for life again. either way, he’s making sure they know they’ve got options, and that he (and papyrus and asgore and all their friends) are behind them 100 percent. 

but until then, he’s got this. his brother, these photos, a mug with a lame pun, and the warm feeling that he might actually be doing something right for once. 

**Author's Note:**

> toriel died pre-fic, in a non-described manner. sans (and frisk) deal with the grief of losing her. the funeral and sans' depression is described.


End file.
